


even scorpions don't live forever

by buenaspalabras



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: F/F, I'm so sorry but I had to do this to process that trauma called El Oasis, It's been six months today and I'm missing her, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buenaspalabras/pseuds/buenaspalabras
Summary: It only takes one bullet to change two lives.Alternate ending for El Oasis. it's just as sad, but I tried to make it a little better.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	even scorpions don't live forever

**Author's Note:**

> Although I’ll never top Lost Ones (qgmon) or Déjame (Zxhir), today’s sad tweets from everyone about it being six months since we lost Zulema made me want to write my own version of, well, everything. I wrote this in a few hours so the plot is shit and the description is even worse, but I just needed to get this out. 
> 
> Here it is. I’m sorry in advance.

“What was that? What the _fuck_ was that?” Macarena yells at nobody in particular. Her hands tightly grip the steering wheel, adrenaline and fear and anger running through her veins in a mixture that makes her feel a little lightheaded. They’ve been doing robberies like these for nearly two years and it’s never gone wrong.

Until today.

“What was that guard doing there?” the blonde continues. Her foot presses down on the gas pedal even harder, getting them away from the scene of the robbery as quickly as possible. “You were supposed to keep an eye on him!”

“Maca.”

Zulema’s voice sounds off. Slow and heavy, tight with something that sounds like pain.

“What?” Macarena snaps at the other woman, keeping her eyes trained on the road. When the answer doesn’t come, she looks over at the brunette and sees her pressing her hands against her stomach.

The skin of her hands is covered in a red, dark liquid that hasn’t even gotten the chance to dry just yet, because it’s still seeping through her black sweater. Not too quickly, but definitely not slow enough for Macarena’s liking.

_She’s bleeding._

“You’re bleeding,” the blonde stammers, as if it wasn’t obvious. “You’re- fuck. Wait. Hang on.”

Zulema’s eyes are shut tightly against the blinding pain shooting through her body with each turn the car makes, so she rather feels than sees them drive off the highway and onto another street. It only takes thirty two seconds for Macarena to find a dark and empty parking lot, far away from everything and everyone, but those thirty two seconds feel like ten years.

The gear shift is pushed into park and Macarena’s seat belt comes off, finally giving her the space to turn her body towards Zulema. The brunette is trembling and her eyes look different, carrying an emotion Maca can’t place just yet.

She leans over and her hands find Zulema’s bloody ones. “Let me see,” she demands. Much to her surprise, the brunette is still strong enough to push her away and shake her head. “No.”

“Let me see, Zulema. I have to help you.”

But the older woman shakes her head again. Her face contorts into a grimace of pain when she presses her own hands harder against her stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.

It’s then that Macarena realizes something.

_She doesn’t want me to see, because she knows how bad it is._

“Zulema,” Maca tries again. Her hands cover the brunette’s once more and she pulls gently, waiting for eye contact.

It happens immediately.

The brunette’s dark green eyes find hers, and this time the younger woman immediately knows what the emotion is.

Fear. Paralyzing fear.

Macarena, on her part, tries to convey every possible comforting emotion though her own eyes in an attempt to make Zulema trust her enough to let her help.

She voices her thoughts eventually. A soft _trust me_ leaves her lips, much softer and honest than anything she’s said to Zulema in the past two weeks. They’ve been fighting a lot lately and Maca regrets every single thing she’s said now she sees the brunette like this.

The words are enough for Zulema and she slowly lowers her hands, resting them in her lap. It gives Macarena the space to pull up her sweater so she can see.

She immediately wishes she didn’t.

The cause of the bleeding is a bullet, which pushed through the skin of Zulema’s abdomen and probably multiple organs, destroying everything in its way. Macarena’s right hand finds the brunette’s back and searches for an exit wound that doesn’t seem to be there. Zulema shivers.

The blonde’s hand migrates from the shivering back towards her stomach again and she inspects, observes, calculates. How much time they have left, before- no.

Macarena presses two fingers to Zulema’s neck and the brunette willingly tilts her head, allowing better access underneath her raven hair.

“Your heart is racing,” Maca notices.

The brunette licks her lips before she answers.

“Tachycardia.”

“What now?”

“Google it.”

The blonde reaches back with her left hand, pulling her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Her eyes scan Zulema’s face once more, looking for signs that she’s getting worse, before she sits back in the chair and unlocks the device.

She starts to type without even knowing how to spell the word. Google understands her, luckily, and guides her to the right information. The first page causes Macarena’s own heart rate to speed up.

_“Tachycardia is typically the first abnormal vital sign of hemorrhagic shock. As the body attempts to preserve oxygen …”_

Her next search is hemorrhagic shock. She’s not a doctor, for fuck’s sake. How would she know what to do if every sentence contains medical terms? She’s never learned how to treat a fucking bullet wound. Especially not if that bullet is stuck inside someone you care about, even though you’ve never told her.

The results don’t do anything to calm her down.

_“Hemorrhagic shock is a medical emergency where the body begins to shut down due to heavy blood loss. People suffering injuries that involve heavy bleeding may go into hemorrhagic shock if the bleeding isn't stopped immediately.”_

That’s it.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” Macarena decides. She shoves her phone into the cup holder and it immediately reminds her of the times their heists went well. They used to celebrate with alcohol and coffee; Zulema holding her own bottle of tequila, while Macarena’s cup of coffee waited for her in the cup holder since she was usually the one driving them.

Things are different now.

And they turn even more complicated, when Zulema answers.

“No.”

Macarena shakes her head and turns the keys in the ignition. “It wasn’t a question. I’m taking you.”

“I said _no,_ Maca.”

A bloody hand finds hers on top of the gear shift and prevents her from pushing the car out of park.

The contact causes a tingle to shoot through the blonde, starting at the place where their hands touch and going all the way up her arm to the top of her head. Macarena ignores it, just like she’s ignored her feelings towards the other woman that have been growing stronger and stronger over the course of the years.

She turns her head and meets Zulema’s eyes again. The brunette is clearly begging her not to go, and the younger woman is conflicted.

_Is she going to listen to Zulema and stay here? With the risk of her bleeding out? Or is she going to take them to the hospital where it’s very likely that they’ll both be arrested?_

“You’re going to die, Zulema,” Macarena states. Her voice trembles and she isn’t sure if she’s angry at this fucking stubborn woman in front of her or if she’s just terrified of losing her.

Maybe it’s both.

“You’re going to die _right_ _here_ in this fucking car if I don’t do anything right now!”

Zulema needs a few inhales to be able to speak.

“I know.”

The peacefulness of the statement takes Macarena aback.

“What do you mean you know?”

“I’m already dying, _rubia_.”

Zulema is still pressing her hands against her stomach. With each pump of her heart, some blood trickles though her fingers onto her pants, reminding her that she’s just postponing the inevitable.

Macarena is unable to find anything appropriate to say to this. She turns the key again, effectively shutting the car off.

“Do you really think,” Zulema manages. “they’ll just let me walk? After taking a bullet out of me?”

The blonde doesn’t respond.

“There will be cops. We’ll get arrested. You too, Maca.”

Macarena shakes her head in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Not Zulema. Not the brave, strong, invincible scorpion she’s known for almost a decade. Not the woman with whom she’s shared a home with for nearly two years. Yes, it was a stupid van with just one bed and a bathroom with not enough space for the both of them, but it was their _home._

And Macarena can’t imagine what it looks like without Zulema.

She turns towards the brunette, leaning over the gear shift to cup both cheeks with her hands, forcing Zulema to look into her eyes.

“I can’t let you die here.”

The brunette doesn’t shy away from the physical closeness like she used to. She leans in, almost.

“So you’d rather go back to jail?”

Deep green eyes are looking at Macarena expectantly. Almost as if they know the answer will be _no, I’m not going to jail for you._

But just like many times before, the blonde surprises her.

“Yes. If it means you won’t die.”

Zulema shakes her head as much as possible with Maca’s hands still on her face.

“You still have a life to live. You have a child growing inside of you.”

The tears that Macarena has been trying to hold back for minutes now finally spill over, covering her cheeks with black lines from her mascara. She forgot to wear her waterproof one.

“I want my child to know you.”

Both of Zulema’s hands come up to pull the blonde’s hands from her face. Instead of completely pulling them away, the brunette slides her own hands into them, giving in. For just one time, which will immediately be the last.

It makes Macarena realize they’ve never held hands. She’s dying to know what it would feel like to do this forever, and the pain is excruciating when she knows she won’t be able to.

“Zulema,” she tries again. “Please. Let me take you to the hospital.”

The brunette manages a smile. Her eyes say sorry.

“I don’t want to be buried," she mentions. "Find a crematorium and tell them I’m _el elfo del puto infierno.”_

“Don’t joke about this,” Macarena is seconds away from a full breakdown. “Please.”

"There’s five million in the van if they ask questions,” Zulema continues. “Buy them off.”

After saying that many words back to back, the brunette is struggling for air. She can feel her body getting weaker with every pulsating beat of her heart. She’s terrified. 

But at least Macarena is here with her.

The younger woman is still leaning over the gear shift and the muscles on her left side are heavily protesting by now, but she couldn’t care less. She wants to be as close to Zulema as possible, while she tries to ignore the dark liquid and the way Zulema’s eyes lose some of their fight with each second that passes.

They don’t have much time left, so Macarena does what she’s been wanting to do for years.

She presses their lips together.

It tastes like blood and tears mingled together with the salad they had before going out and Maca is reminded of their half empty plates still on the kitchen table, and that thought alone makes her cry even more because Zulema won’t be there when she gets back.

She pulls back enough to find Zulema’s eyes, wide and confused but _oh the realization_ that they should’ve done this sooner hits them at the same time and it hurts.

The brunette leans in as much as she can with the paralyzing pain that’s spreading through her entire body now. Macarena gets it and kisses her again and Zulema keeps her eyes closed, wanting to stay in this moment forever. The distraction from the blonde’s lips is good, perfect actually, and she’s not so scared now. As long as Macarena is here, she’ll be fine.

Her heart aches when the blonde stops kissing her, but keeps their lips together close enough for Zulema to feel the words rather than hear them.

“I love you,” Macarena mumbles. “I’m sorry for never saying it and never acting like it. And _god_ I’m so fucking stupid for never doing this before but I love you, Zulema.”

And then, the brunette does what she’d never have done years ago. But Macarena has changed her, turned her soft. Not that she'll ever admit it, though. Or would she? 

Zulema finds that the words leave her lips before she can stop them. It's the first time she doesn't hate herself for telling the truth. 

“ _Yo te quiero también, rubia.”_

Macarena’s head ends up on Zulema’s shoulder to listen to her breathing while it gets slower and slower and she cries until the brunette’s shirt is not only wet with blood but also tears. She cries and cries even more when the hand in hers goes limp and she knows if she’ll call Zulema’s name, she won’t get a response.

Despite everything Zulema has done, she doesn’t deserve to die like this. In an old, empty parking lot, bleeding out from a gunshot wound that wasn’t even supposed to be there.

But at least Macarena is there with her.

* * *

It takes her three months, but she does it.

She flies to Egypt with the ashes, because Zulema once mentioned she’d like to go back home one day. So that’s what Macarena gives her, as a last and final gift.

She’s five months pregnant by now and the journey is exhausting, but she does it.

The sun is burning on her skin when she stands there, in the desert, with both hands wrapped around the urn. There’s no wind. Just a bright sun and Macarena. With life growing inside of her, but death in her hands.

The ashes mingle with the sand of the desert and before Macarena knows it, the urn is empty and all she can do is stare at nothing and fight the tears in her eyes.

She loses the battle and her tears fall anyway.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices something move. It’s small and black, but it catches her attention, so she looks down at her feet.

A little to the left of her sneakers, is a scorpion. It doesn’t move, it just sits there and stares at her. Macarena kneels, although her belly is in the way and it annoys her, to take a better look at the small creature. Years ago, she was terrified of anything that was bigger than a fly, but she finds that this animal doesn’t scare her now.

“Hi there,” she whispers. Her voice is still thick with tears.

The scorpion’s tail curls at the sound of her voice. It stays very still though, and so does Macarena.

“Did I scare you?" she asks. The small creature doesn't move an inch.

"I'm just here to say goodbye to a friend," Maca manages. "She was very special." 

The scorpion suddenly runs the remaining distance towards her sneaker and stops right before it bumps into it. Although Macarena isn't scared, she definitely isn't going to reach out and touch the animal either.

She continues her one-sided conversation instead. 

"Will you take care of her? I think she'll love you." 

The small creature stays in front of her foot for a few more seconds, before it turns around and scurries away, towards the place where Maca has just scattered the ashes. It disappears under a rock until it's completely out of sight. 

Macarena manages to get up from the ground. She can't bring herself to leave just yet. This place feels the closest to Zulema she could still get, so she stays for a little longer. She puts both hands on her stomach, and thinks about the brunette. About them. For a moment, she feels lonelier than ever.

And then, the child growing inside of her gives a small kick.

She's not alone. 


End file.
